You, the Lamb, the last of your kind is being put to the chopping block. The bishops speak to you, but none of their words are heard. You're crouched in front of them, the scratching of the executioner sharpening is blade is all you can focus on. Your head feels light as you finally hear the swing of an axe, but...

"To your feet... Vessel," A godly voice snarls down to you. Your feel a strong pulse coming from the being speaking to you. Chains are heard rattling